Archive for February, 2007

The Contest

My husband won this contest at work…The prize? 2 tickets to the Spiderman 3 premier in either L.A. or NY. Do you know what that means? We get to walk the red carpet with cool Hollywood actors like Toby MacGuire and Kirsten Dunst!

Do you know what that really means? That means that when I woke up yesterday morning and thought, “I’m tired of trying to lose weight. Screw it. I don’t even feel like trying anymore…I really need some good motivation if I’m ever going to get back into my clothes and I just don’t have it right now,” God laughed and made sure my husband’s name, which had been withdrawn from the drawing and then re-entered right before the drawing took place, was actually pulled out of the hat.

Why is this motivation? Because apparently I’m vain and don’t want to look like an elephant around all those way-too-skinny actresses who have the bodies of 10 year olds. Seriously, my 13 year old boy has more curves than these chics.

So, I’m motivated again…and instead of looking like an elephant next to them, I’m striving to only look like a cow. Because the size of a cow is about right for me. Unlike Hollywood women, I want to keep my curves – that’s what sets me apart from the little girls under my roof. Yes, my little girls (at least my 3 year old) envy my curves. I love it. She always talks about the curves she’s going to have when she grows up like me.

Really, I don’t know how this whole trip is going to work. I can’t even go house hunting with my husband (which I’m totally okay with now that we figured out we will be saving over, $1000 by me staying home!)

I love to watch the Spiderman movies, but after waiting in line for an hour and a half to meet Uchenna and Joyce and Rob and Amber (Reality tv stars from The Amazing Race and Survivor) I realized that they are just people and although they were very nice, meeting famous people isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. They are JUST people. People who get paid way too much money to entertain, nonetheless. Shoot, put me in front of a war hero, like my grandpa, and I’d be honored to say I met them.

Anyway, like I said, I still don’t know how this is going to work out. I have a baby and she isn’t old enough to walk the red carpet, AND she won’t take a bottle, AND she’s totally into her mommy so I can’t see leaving her for two nights without her freaking out. Although, I should have Scott take Kelly. Perhaps she could be discovered for her natural singing talents! ha ha

It’s not that I’m not excited, but my husband is way more excited than I am about this whole contest, but I do think it would be cool to be able to post a couple of pics on my blog, not of Kirsten or Toby, or that cute actor guy who starred in Fly Boys (whose name I can’t seem to remember right now), but of me and my handsome hubby walking the red carpet. That would be kind of cool.

P.S. I know I say that these actors are just people and meeting them isn’t that big of a deal, but if any of the actors from The Office were there, THEN I’d go nuts. I just LOVE that show!


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I totally shouldn’t be blogging this because my oldest son would be mortified, but I just can’t resist and I figure he’ll never know I did this (I hope). Anyway, he has a habit of coming out of his bedroom multiple times after bed time. He comes out to put lotion on his hands, comes out to get a drink of water, comes out to pee, but Scott and I are smart enough to know that he also comes out to see what’s on the tv and to be nosy and goof off because he doesn’t want to go to bed.

So, tonight, after the third time coming out of his room, I told him “that’s it. Last time. Take care of what you need to take care of NOW and don’t come out again for the rest of the night.”

He says okay, and 5 MINUTES LATER he is back out of his room.

“What are you doing? I said no more!” I exclaimed.

“Sorry, Mom. It’s just that…I didn’t wipe my butt good enough…”

I was so irritated I told him to move down two rungs on the privilege ladder we have for the kids…but after he did, and closed the bathroom door, it hit me what he said. I would have never confessed such a thing at thirteen!

As he was wiping away, I remembered his awkward stance and the way he waddled into the bathroom trying not to let anything spread. I stifled a laugh and decided I would personally move him back up the two rungs. What kind of mom would I be if I punished him for trying to keep his undies skid-free?

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No Means NO

My wonderful hubby got busy laying the tile in the boys’ bathroom yesterday. Here’s a picture of him hard at work. Ooh la la! I just love his sexy Shrek undies!

“You know…” (Here he goes…) “If you just finished laying the backerboard in the other bathroom, that would help out A LOT.”

No, I am not getting involved. I SAID I am NOT helping tile floors. I will have NOTHING to do with it!

FINE. I’ll lay the backer board in our bathroom while you work on that one.
But, that’s all I’m doing!
“You know…” (Here he goes again…) “If you just help me cut the tile, we (notice the we he threw in there?) could be done in only 2 hours. That’s like half the time.” (As in, I wouldn’t be stuck here doing this all by myself for four more hours).
How do I get drawn into this???

Just because I think your cute, it doesn’t mean I’m happy about doing this!

Oh cool! Look at what WE did!

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The Scream

We had some friends over this morning for breakfast before their big move out of state. Everything was going great. Breakfast was yummy, good conversation, and then…

SCRREEEEEEEEEEEEEAM! The worst ear-piercing, shrill, panicked screaming filled the house. At first we thought the kids were just playing, and then when the scream kept going, I realized somebody was hurt. “Go check, Scott! Hurry!” I yelled. I was holding the baby and couldn’t move as fast. But the screaming sounded so horrible I was right behind him. I knew it was Joshua, who normally over-reacts when he gets hurt, but this was just so aweful I knew something serious happened. I heard one of the kids shouting that something was in him. I envisioned us rushing him to the hospital, leaving our dear friends behind to fend for themselves…or calling an ambulance.

When I got to the top of the stairs, I saw my husband holding Joshua, who was still screaming so loud I could feel my eardrums vibrating. Scott was holding him trying to find out what was wrong while Joshua’s back was arched back so far I knew that something had to be in his back. I lost it. “WHAT HAPPENED?!?!” Yes, I was freaking out. I couldn’t find anything wrong. Nothing was in his back.

Scott and I looked at him again. He would not stop screaming even to tell us where he was hurt. Every time Scott tried to talk, he screamed louder. My oldest started his babbling telling us ‘what could be wrong’ as if we couldn’t think of all the things that could be wrong with him ourselves. My 13 year old expert on everything…what would I do without him? And wasn’t he the one who told us there was something “in him?”

Finally, I looked at Kelly who’s eyes told me she knew exactly what happened. She and her friend stood there as I shouted (so they could hear me over the screams) “What happened?” and yes, I was still panicked, but trying to stay calm.

Finally Kelly told me she “shut the door.” and her friend explained further that Kelly “slammed the door on his hand.” I looked at Joshua’s hands. His fingers were smashed, bloody, and a bit blue. At first I thought his index finger was broken because it was bent back quite a bit, but he was just holding it that way out of pain.

Of course, by the time I found all this out, Scott had already figured out what was going on. He’d figured it out about the time I was checking Joshua’s back. So, he was busy asessing the damage to his fingers, while I was still investigating. GREAT. Not that he could have told me what was going on…I’d gone deaf about that time.

We got him downstairs and Scott held him while I got ice. Soda. Motrin. ANYTHING to get him to stop screaming. And our poor friends had to sit there and witness us in crisis mode. I was shaking so badly that I kept dropping the ice all over the floor. I can NOT imagine how I’d be in a real emergency. I don’t want to know. I pray I’ll never have to find out.

So, it turns out he’s going to live and we didn’t have to take him to the ER. In fact, his fingers are looking GREAT now. Nothing’s broken, and once he got his mangled little fingers on a video game controller, he’d forgotten about the pain after about 10 minutes.

I’ve finally stopped shaking enough to type this up and now I just have to get over the slight embarassment of my friends seeing me freak out over smashed fingers.

Here’s a pic of the top of his hand…I tried to take a picture of the other side but they came out blurry…I’ll try again today.

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On Moving

Every time I hear we are going to move, my first thought is, “I get to go house hunting!” I love, love, love looking at houses. I don’t know why, but it’s just something I get excited about.

So imagine my disappointment when it seems that no matter how hard we try to work things out for me to accompany Scott on a house hunting trip, it just isn’t going to work out. Trying to get child care arranged is hard since the two older boys are in school. We’d have to get someone to stay here at the house with them so they can catch their bus to school, OR we’d have to ask someone to keep them at their house and drive them to school (at two different times in the morning). Everyone I know (and trust with my kids) has kids of their own to get to their own schools. Then there’s the two younger ones, Scott’s ever-changing work schedule, the list goes on.

I’m resigned to the fact that I just can’t go. I hate that. I LOVE house hunting. I love that it’s just me and my hubby alone for a couple of days (although this time Madison would have to join us). It’s like a break, a vacation. That’s one of the few exciting perks about this move for me.

So now I get to move somewhere cold (I know some of you living in colder places than OH are really laughing at me now!) and I don’t even get to pick which house I’m going to live in. Well, I guess I still have a say, Scott will take pics and email them to me. But still, it’s just not the same. I’m all about the experience.

Oh listen to me, Ms. Positive! It’s not all that bad, I’m just really disappointed that this little adventure of mine isn’t going to work out after all. I’m sure once we get settled in, I’m going to like living there…when it’s not cold.

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My Little Diva

My daughter cracks me up. I just wanted her to sing! I wanted to shout, “Stop talking and sing!” But of course, I was recording, so I had to be nice! So she sang on and off… but I couldn’t understand a word she said. Anyway, I think you’ll get a kick out of her facial expressions (when she’s actually singing!)

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I tried posting this through youtube.com but it just wouldn’t work. So…here’s the link…


My little Kelly cracks me up. If I could just get her to shut up and sing, I might actually have something good going! Seriously though, I love her facial expressions. She is such a little star, made to shine! (and she knows it!) Now, if we can just make it to adulthood without me wringing her neck – oh does she know how to try me!

Just this morning she snuck out of her room and got into my pantry. I haven’t even assessed the damage yet, but I do know she snuck crackers up to her room. The girl scares me. She gets into everything! She literally gets into everything.

At least I can take comfort in knowing I’m not alone. I remember finding my friend’s daughter in my bathroom, washing her face with toilet paper dunked in toilet water! At least I had one of those bleach tablets in the tank…last time I bought one of those and I won’t buy more until all my kids are old enough to realize they should not play in the toilet.

Speaking of toilets, Scott is working on the bathroom floors, about to tile them. (Yes, right before the big move!) He took the toilet out of the boys’ bathroom and placed it in the tub. Well, Kelly just could not resist. That’s right. You guessed it. She’s peed in the toilet sitting in the bathtub. I can just picture her sneaking in there, climbing into the bathtub, sticking her cute little chubby butt on that porcelain throne and relieving herself, thinking about how awesome it is that she had the opportunity to pee where no man has peed before. Well, kind of.

The fun part of this project is not going to be laying or cutting the tile. No, it’s going to be installing the toilet without getting pee everywhere. We are still trying to figure out how to clean it out…and needless to say, none of us are eager to do it.

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